


The Carpenter

by twoofdiamonds



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Poetry, poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 12:46:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3529949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoofdiamonds/pseuds/twoofdiamonds





	The Carpenter

In youth he was tended by Sisters of Ash   
Who coaxed him to shaping their pale creamy wood  
He practised and listened until he could change  
The most charming of dryads and smallest of buds

The Lady of Silver was graceful and quiet  
But sad for her wild-hearted dark haired son  
His knowing hand calmed her and settled her spirit   
While Laughing Larch rustled her leaves and looked on

He moulded the Maple and managed the Spruce  
Into delicate planes that were tenderly pared  
So making the voice of the violin sweet   
For beautiful music that so many shared 

And once in the orchard, not wanting for pleasure,  
He fell for the girl with the pretty white hair  
And he lay in the soft summer grasses beside her  
Permitting her touch for the love in the air

The many mad moods of the Willow were soothed   
She learned to flexible supple and light  
Weeping forgotten she smiled in the sunshine  
And turned to play cricket and laugh with delight

Admiring the Elms of the South for their wisdom  
He helped the recovery, profiting well,  
For payment was made in the sharing of secrets  
And increased renown and elite clientèle

Always a word for the Old Man of Oak  
Lightening struck leaning and glad of a guide  
They talked of the days and the ways that we were   
And solid stuff made of the sturdiest pride

The Holly she helped with complex design  
And nothing could outdo the burnish of Teak  
Adorning the chambers of power, the temples  
And prominent homes of the wealthy and chic 

And even the Elder, when hearing of Teak,  
Deigned to drop wood at the Carpenter's door  
Not wanting to forfeit the chance to be changed  
And lovingly carved and polished and sure

Proud as the oak and renowned for his skill  
He started to work with the prized wood of yew   
And ended his trade with her beautiful veins  
Of dark, and the finish was smoother than silk

Mielikki scattering conkers for school boys  
Found him and recognised one of her own  
She made him a pyre of autumn-red leaves   
And spread out to shelter his sweet chestnut soul


End file.
